The Foxglove
by Anniarchy
Summary: In an attempt to keep it low-key by avoiding taking any hostages for his amusement or going after Batman, the Riddler explores a new way of satisfying his need for attention (as well as finding a suitable outlet of sorts for his compulsion to dishing out riddles) by checking in at a local BDSM club called The Foxglove. Perhaps he may find something he's really into?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _The Riddler is an interesting character with certain personality traits that I'm shocked many of the writers have not decided to have a bit of fun with. Well, they sort of have. It was once hinted he must have frequented a BDSM club (regarding the name "Foxglove") considering how when he and Batman went there for questioning, everyone there knew him. So I've decided to explore that bit regarding his need for attention and how he goes about satisfying that desire._

 _Before I begin, I want everyone reading this to know that this takes place in the Arkham games universe. I would also like everybody to know that I wished that someday I could be a sexologist and focus my studies on the BDSM community (though due to financial problems plus the locations of these grad schools regarding sexology, this is a dream that cannot manifest in my lifetime). I also happen to be someone who does have some BDSM within my sex life. So I want it to be clear that in my fanfics and erotica in general, I like my BDSM scenes to be realistic regarding practices. For those of you who are new to writing such scenes, keep in mind that safewords and aftercare are very important as well as respecting someone's boundaries. This has been a public announcement from someone that thoroughly enjoys a happy and safe sex life. Thank you for taking the time to reading my disclaimer!_

 **Chapter One: "Topper"**

Edward was slipping from the grips of sanity since the caped crusader found him out. Nothing changed according to plans. Gotham was still a filthy city infested with the plague of ignorance and stupidity. _Willful_ ignorance and stupidity. Nobody wanted to read for the sake of enjoyment or for the sake of learning. The pursuit of knowledge, save for a handful of individuals, was dead in Gotham. Even many academics and college students didn't value knowledge. They would rather party and fuck each other's brains out.

Ah, college. How it made him hope yet brought him disappointment. No intellectual equals of any sort, though he thoroughly enjoyed being above others. Except nobody cared. No praise, no wow's or "can you teach me?" He once considered being a college professor, but the classmates that made the effort to keep their attendance within existence came in high, with hangovers, or they were too busy sexting with their flip-phones.

How disappointing the technological industry has become with consumers. Because that's all they saw: consumers. They didn't press for people to become intelligent and competent enough to where they could spark curiosity to tinker with gadgets and see what they could create. Only Edward did that, and again: nobody cared.

It wasn't _too_ bad. There were times he got attention, and he jumped that gun when he could. Unfortunately the majority of those times were him getting laid. It's unfortunate because it turns out these women just wanted a satisfying bedside and nothing more. But it wasn't _too_ bad because he's got brains _and_ good looks. He was just mad that these young woman didn't genuinely _want_ help with homework.

There was a slight urge to kill in college, but he ignored that. Instead, he made sure these women were so satisfied that they would be too afraid to get together with another man for fear the sex-life with a jock or an average Joe would be nowhere near as satisfying. He knew his way around the clitoris, could find g-spots, could help introduce or coax out hidden wants, desires, kinks, fetishes in these women. And he'd do this once, maybe twice. Make them come their brains out, and then want nothing to do with them afterwards.

It pissed off so many male classmates when word got around. And he just sat there, relishing what he'd done. Sex was nearly dead unless with him on campus, save for the lesbians that wanted nothing to do with him, whom he did not pursue.

It had been years since he'd done that, but he missed the attention. Now that he was out of Arkham and laying low, he wanted to figure out a very discrete way of gaining that attention again. But the question was: how?

Boredom and hiding made him want sex again, but he wasn't about to whore himself out on the streets. The cops would find out, and that would be bad. He also doesn't want to gain the reputation of a sexual predator of any sort, so he had to be careful of that. To be a lady-killer without actually _killing_ can be easy, but not when you have a reputation for simply killing.

This was a new, good riddle indeed: Where can one have anonymous sex? Where can one have anonymous sex and the police won't find out? And how does one do this without spooking civilians?

He reached a finger up just under his bowler to scratch at his temple. His fingers drumming the top of his cane as he sat there in the alley, thinking but remaining alert in case he needed to book it.

It had to be where he could essentially be _him_ and not somebody else. No disguises. The attention needed to be for him and only him and not someone fake.

"Unless someone has a kink or fetish for fugitives", he thought aloud to himself.

A lightbulb lit up. _Of course!_ , he thought, _The Foxglove! That's the perfect place that guarantees anonymity for this sort of thing! The Riddler could be a fetish fad or a kink fad! But..._ He shifted his weight from one foot to the next as he leaned against the trash can, almost sitting fully on it again, _What the hell am I even into?_

Well, he can take a bit of a beating from Batman. Perhaps there might be a limit where there could be pleasure from that. This way, when he gets hit by Batman...

 _Okay no. If I do that, I don't need to condition myself to become aroused when my arch-nemesis shows up. Then again I don't really know what I'm into..._

He was curious of being tied up. He was curious of the paddles. He was curious of the flogging, the crop, bare hand spanking. Perhaps he could find an endorphin rush off of that. And it would be with someone he's paying to trust to bring about these feelings. _And these are professionals. I'm sure if I voice my concerns as a beginner, they can do what they can to help me explore._

Walking in as the Riddler may or may not be the best idea. He did his best to come up with a disguise until he gave in and decided to go as his glorious self. With a lie... ish.

Edward waltzed into The Foxglove with a smile and everyone froze in fear. He held up his hands defensively, "No no _no_ , I'm not here to harm _anybody_. I am here for _help_." He noticed that the workers and customers looked to one another. He continued to "explain" himself, "In Arkham, it was mentioned there is a possibility I may have something that needs fulfilled. A _need_. And I think you all know exactly what I'm talking about."

A greeter that helps someone become assigned to clients wearing a lacey half-mask and bunny ears approaches him nervously. He could hear the fear in her tone, "How may we help you, sir?"

"I trust anything that happens here stays here?" He saw her nod, almost ready to cry. He didn't need that. It would spoil his mood, "Oh now don't worry. Again: I'm not here to harm or kill anyone. I'm here to explore. It's my first time in an establishment such as this, and I'm interested in exploring what I may or may not be into."

"And h.. how would you like to explore? Top or b.. bottom?"

It took him a second to register what that meant before he responded thoughtfully, "I'm actually interested in trying the _bottom_. I trust no one will try to hurt _me_ , I take it? Considering I wish to explore what it's like being tied up. This just may be what I need in life, you know?"

She nods and write his name down in the guest book as "The Riddler" under "newcomer." Then she asks him, "Would you like a master or a dominatrix?"

"Dominatrix. I want to feel the power of a woman over me, if that's alright with you."

She turns and asks another attendant in a similar attire and mask, but with leopard-ears, to send for a dominant. Edward waited happily despite the woman shaking in her stilletos. He noticed this would take a bit of a while, considering some of the workers are probably arguing who should take him out of fear. So he tries to calm the greeter down, "How difficult is it to walk in those?"

"It.. it's difficult at times."

"I commend anyone, man or woman, who can wear those and be on their feet all day. Do they not cause foot problems?"

"That.. depends."

"And how about that corset? Is it difficult to breathe?"

She gulps, trembling more, "That also depends. This corset has metal ribs in it, but I have it adjusted so I am capable of breathing. Worn with the right clothes, it can be comfy at times."

He shook his head but not in disapproval. It was in amazement, "The things women wear for style. Then again, if you like it enough, right?"

"Heh. Right."

"It also disappoints me greatly in society how some women are _forced_ to wear such impractical, eye-candy clothing like skirts. There are enough men in the workforce that don't care to control themselves and feel this need to tell a woman what to wear so they have something pleasant for them to look at. You're there to _work_ , not ogle at someone so you have something to do during your smoke-break", he says making a gesture as if jacking off a disembodied cock. "Then again, your job here is all about a client's pleasure, so wearing something provocative or promiscuous comes with the job."

"R-right."

"I think places like this need to be everywhere so people can keep their gutter-minds in one place and keep a level head in another. I think it would help cut down on the amount of sexual assault we have going on, as well."

"You're very thoughtful, M-Mr. Riddler."

He smiled, about to continue with the discussion in an effort to keep her from panicking when a dominatrix in leather and fishnets approached him. She wore a black eye-mask, and looked stereotypical carrying a riding crop. She prodded at him, "This way, bad boy." She tried so hard to keep up her composure and led him through the crowd of borderline orgies.

The aroma of perfume and incense filled the air as he walked further into the risqué establishment, and he made note of how clean everything was. This place was top-notch, and he was glad he had money in a hidden account for this. He was impressed at the upkeep.

The Dom led him down a hall lined with red carpeting, pink walls, and purple doors leading to rooms. Upon the Victorian doorknobs were signs stating whether or not a room was occupied. She informed him, trying to maintain a tone of respectful authority in her voice, "Each of the rooms are sound-proof for privacy reasons of the clients, which would include you. We take privacy as serious as we do with pleasure."

"Very high-end indeed", he thought aloud, becoming more impressed with the pretty dungeon.

She opened a free door, but with a key. Regardless if occupied or not, the rooms were to remain locked at all times for safety reasons. The purple door opened up to a room the size of a small classroom complete with Victorian era furniture, some looking like it was taken from those decades, others looking like new, long lost concepts that were never seen to the public. The furniture was plush, and Edward figured each room had different furniture for different reasons because more than one fetish or kink existed. This must be a common room t use on newbies such as himself. He was glad he'd at least be comfortable.

With a breath, Eddie reminded himself that he must keep an open mind and watch that he doesn't lash out. He was ready to take commands from a woman in leather, and understood that any orders she may bark are for his pleasure, and he can adjust any words that can or cannot be said accordingly. He decided on a safeword being "stop." He says that because it's his first time, that will be his go-to word for now. He's merely exploring, he repeated, to which she fully understood.

His bowler was hung up on a coat rack. He decided the coat should go as well. The dominatrix raised her eyebrows, trying to keep up the persona, and said, "A naughty boy with a two-piece suit? I'll bet that wasn't a gift for you being good."

"It wasn't", he grinned, then soon remembered the persona kicked in. He realized he was at her mercy, and he had to remind himself again to _keep an open mind_. He did enjoy eyes being on him all the time.

She taps the fainting couch, "Have a seat?" She, herself, began making mental notes to avoid _any and all_ insults to avoid him losing his temper. "Bad-boy" wasn't commonly seen as one by society considering it has been overused with sexual undertones. So it's a safe one to throw at him.

He walks over like he owns the place and sits down.

"No", she said, "I was asking you id you had to seat. I wanna see your ass."

That shocked him a bit. He semi-enjoyed that and stood up, only to feel her hands on his shoulders spin him to the side, guide him up onto the fainting couch, and had him get bent over the one arm. He felt his heart rate rise slightly at the await of the unknown. Instead of a smack or a spank, however, he felt her hands fondling his ass.

"Oh my", she cooed, "You have one _cute_ butt." He took pride in that. A compliment given to him on a physical feature never bothered him, but he felt her hands wiggle under him and began to fumble with his belt, "Except I want to _see it_."

By this point, he could tell she was starting to get into it, though still being cautious considering he was a dangerous man who has killed before. He felt his glutes become exposed to the air as she pulled his pants down to his knees. He held onto the arm of the fainting couch as best as he could, expecting hard blows only to feel a hand grab a cheek and give it a slight, unpainful pinch of inspection of the flesh as she went, "Quite cute indeed. Who would have thought that a bad-boy like you would look so good on this end?"

Soon he got a chub from the praise of his body, even if it was a part he only thought of for sitting and going to the bathroom with. _I could get used to this after all._

Except she gave him a decent smack, though not enough to cause pain. It was like a love-tap, "But you've done _lots_ of bad deeds, and you need to be punished for that. _My_ way." The spank came cracking down a bit harder. It was a light sting. Nothing he couldn't handle.

Another smack, "Though the bright side for you is these cheeks are going to look _absolutely adorable_ when they're pink. Maybe even red." A few more smacks, slightly harder but went no further than that. It caused him to gasp a bit because he feared it would get worse. Surprisingly, it didn't, and that blood rush of fear caused him to maintain that slight chub.

But she soon sat him up on his knees, not walking in front of him. She whispered in his ear, "Wait here a moment, and _don't_ move." Fair and easy enough. He remained on his knees on the fainting couch, his pants at his knees, his genitals and buttocks exposed. For a moment, he feared she would take pictures, but this was debunked as he relied on his ears, hearing her rummage in an old timey trunk he'd seen on the way in. Possibly a toy-chest of sorts. He wouldn't have to worry about pictures, because they value privacy. They'd _have_ to value privacy to remain in business.

She came back over, he could hear her footsteps, "Take everything on top off", she told him.

He removed his tie, his vest, his shirt. Aside from his pants around his knees as he sat _on_ his knees, he was nude. More attention. Nearly full-on boner by now.

"That's better", she said approvingly behind him. He saw her bring a hand in front of him that held something. It was green silken rope. She chose the green thinking it would appeal to him. Of course, it did.

She began to tie him up with it, avoiding any wrapping around the neck or joints, creating lovely wrap and knot-work in the front of his torso, and tied his hands behind his back. It felt nice and comfortable to him.

But now he felt helpless and bound. Literally. This woman could _kill_ him if she wanted to. But perhaps she liked the thrill of a challenge?

She walked around to face him from the front and looked him up and down with a smile, and raised her eyebrows again, finding another feature of his to be impressed with, "My, I never knew you were packin' something serious in those pants."

He realized she was talking about his genitals, and in a positive manner. He glances down, feeling more pride, but embarrassed she could see his almost full erection. The Dom walked closer and gently fondled his balls, "And a sizeable sack. Now there's something I don't see too often. Now I know why you strut around like the king of peacocks."

The fondling was nice; a sensation he hadn't felt in a while. Edward's hands struggled against the restraints. It was a random reflex he was now trying to figure out _why_ despite he knows he's not in any danger.

Then he noticed something hanging from her wrist. It was a paddle. And she walked around behind him and gave him a nice little love-tap with it, watching him flinch slightly from the cold leather of her chosen tool, and then gradually increased the force to a moderate smack. His breathing grew a bit harsh as he tried to find pleasure in this, tried so hard to keep an open mind to this particular action. But something was trouble him.

His erection was going down as he began to realize that the reason he doesn't find appeal in this is because he is tied and helpless.

He is not in control.

That's what he wanted. Control, but attention at the same time. He wanted to ride this out, to find out whether or not this could blossom into something, but nothing. Not even being called a "cute bad-boy" was helping him maintain an erection.

"Stop", he finally said. The mistress ceased with the paddling and immediately came around to his front.

"Are you alright?", she asked.

Took him a moment before he finally looked up at her, "Yes", he said, "But I am _not_ into this. Untie me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _I hope everybody enjoyed the previous chapter. I only have a smidgen of an idea on how dungeons like this work after reading_ Whip Smart _by Melissa Phebos, which I recommend for anyone who is interested in BDSM memoirs, including (and especially)_ Diary of a Submissive _by Sophia Morgan. Both are excellent memoirs regarding BDSM, but as far as dungeons and clients are concerned, I only know what I've seen from the episode feature The Foxglove in the TV series_ Gotham _and the_ Whip Smart _story. I decided to throw a bit of a nice, professional spin on it. After all, this is Gotham City we're talking about._

 **Chapter Two: "Topping"**

"I'm sorry it was not to your liking, sir", the mistress broke character as she quickly began to untie him, "Was it too humiliating? Were the ropes too tight?"

He wanted to smile to reassure her, but this new experience kept him from smiling for the moment, "No, it's not that. Being a bottom doesn't do it for me like I expected it to."

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry, sir."

"That's quite alright. You've been a big help."

"I have?", she looked at him, perplexed at that statement.

"Yes. Because you've reminded me of the books I've read regarding BDSM and what it means to be a dominant. It turns out, I'm more of a topper." He finally smiled.

Her face went white as a sheet, "Oh."

He chuckles, "Oh don't think I'm going to top you. No, that's not your job. I would like a submissive instead. Rest assured, I know how to control myself. I'm also very aware of the importance of aftercare. So I would like to have one of your submissives in here."

She wasn't quite sure how to answer that. But for fear of ruining business and the reputation of the establishment, she had to comply, "Did you see anyone you fancied on your way back here? They might be a submissive that's available for you right now."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did", he was putting his clothes back on and smoothing his hair back a bit, "That greeter with the bunny ears at the entrance. Is she a submissive?"

"Yes", she feared for her co-worker's life now, "She is, actually. We can put another greeter out front while she comes back here with you."

"I'll keep this room, though. I like it."

"As you wish, sir." She left the room to fetch the submissive while he finished pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He wanted to look presentable being a Dom for the first time. He was aware of a growing attraction trend with women loving a man's sleeves rolled up halfway up the forearm, which he prepared, left his coat and hat off, and didn't bother with gloves. He wanted to experience touch with his hands for this one.

In came the submissive by herself. No escort like there usually is. She looked absolutely frightened and shaken.

The Riddler turned, his eye-mask back on and he smiled, the smile became a smirk as he tilted his chin down and gave her the "come hither" gesture.

The sub walked over, nearly about to cry, but he reached out with both hands touching her shoulders and went, "Oh no no _no_ , don't cry! No tears! I'm not here to kill you or hurt you. I'm merely exploring what I'm into. And _you_ are gonna help me."

She swallowed, trying to prevent any tears from escaping her eyes. She remained silent. He realized she is the type of submissive who may not speak unless spoken to or asked questions. Or perhaps she was silent in fear for her life.

"Now, I will make one rule perfectly clear to you. Your current psychological state has you acting a little out of character. Because your mind is, for lack of better wording, 'in the real world', your safeword tonight is to be 'stop', which was my safeword. I'll respond to this a lot quicker than something else since this will be my first time doing what I'm about to do. Do you understand?" He received a silent nod. Then he asks, "Now, what are your boundaries?"

"For you", he said with a shaky voice, "I will allow you to do as you please with me."

He frowned, "You're lying. I know you have boundaries, and I want you to tell them to me."

Fear was all she felt as she shook like a leaf within his grasp. There was no escape, and she felt helpless and tried hard not to cry. She hesitated greatly before finally telling him, "I have vaginismus."

He was a bit surprised to hear that coming from a submissive, "Vaginismus?"

"I-it's when the pelvic muscles are tightened involuntarily, so.. P-penetration can be very harmful. I can't get a finger in without being in pain."

"I know what vaginismus is, my pet", he kept as much sincerity within his voice as he could, "I asked you what your boundaries are so that I don't hurt you in ways you don't want me to. Now, what else will you absolutely refuse to do even if offered money for it?"

She gulped before speaking, "I don't enjoy sucking cock. I can't stand the taste, and I don't like anything like that in my mouth."

"Believe me, I wouldn't want that, either. besides, I hadn't had any plans regarding fellatio. I may wish to kiss you at some point. I want a nice, clean kiss if I kiss at all. Is there anything else?"

"No, sir. That's all."

"Good. Now, let's get started by getting rid of that infernal corset."

The sub was about to reach up to begin removing it, but her hands went right back down to her sides as his hands immediately came in to unfasten the front. The backs of his hands lifting her breasts as he began with the top fastener and he worked his way down; he could feel she wore no bra. Then he took it off of her and tossed it behind the fainting couch. Then he walks over to it and pats it. This prompted her to immediately scurry over and sit down. He then pulls up a chair and sat in front of her.

"Give me your foot, either one will do." he pats his knee and she brought one up.

It was puzzling as to whether or not he had a foot fetish as he took the stiletto off. Then he began to massage her feet. Her eyes widened a bit because she wasn't expecting this, and began to protest such treatment, "S-sir, I don't think that's necessary."

"I want you to be completely focused on me and what I'm doing to you. I don't want you distracting by aching feet. This _is_ necessary. Got it?"

She nodded, hardly able to verbally respond because of how damn good he was at this right now, "Y... yes, sir."

"And um", he loved this level of obedience already, "Call me master."

"Y.. yes, master."

He even focused on her toes, cracking some for her benefit, and worked on the other foot. The silence killed him, so he spoke, "What's your name? That is, a name you're willing to give me?"

"Rebecca", she then gasped, accidentally revealing her real name to a criminal.

But he chuckles and went, "Oh relax, I'm not going to stalk you or anything. I have no reason to. Would you like me to call you Rebecca?"

"If you want."

"But what do _you_ want?"

She figured she's dead anyways, so what difference does it make? "Just.. call me Rebecca."

He finished with her foot, then had her sit at the edge of the fainting couch and pondered for a moment.

"One moment, while I go explore the toy box. No peeking."

He was only over there for two minutes, but those two minutes were Rebecca's longest minutes of her life. She expected to be strung up by a rope, hung so he could watch her struggle to breath. Or maybe he wanted to watch her die even slower by whipping or beating her to death. But she feared death would be imminent for sure if she let a single tear escape, so she fought them back as hard as she could.

Rebecca heard him mutter words of approval of whatever it was that he was finding, and then heard his footsteps as he made his way back over to her, setting something down on the ottoman as he repeated for her to not peek no matter what. And she obeyed.

He stopped in front of her with green silken rope; this was of a much shorter length than what the dominatrix used on him earlier. She came close to crying once more but fought to hold it back as he began tying her arms and hands behind her back. He didn't need to ask if she was comfortable because he knew what he was doing. He's tied people up before, so this was nothing to him.

Okay, so far so good. He enjoys tying her up, he enjoys the attention and the focus. But he wants to make sure that he's not the only one having a good time. He straddled a bit in front of her, bent over and reached between his legs to grab the edge of the chair and pull it up to him.

Once he sat down, he took a moment to figure out what to do next. The moment was short, thankfully, and he leaned forward and began to kiss her. Much to her surprise, he was a really good kisser, and for the first time since setting foot in this room, she began to enjoy herself a little.

With the set-up of her being bound, the rush of blood from fear, and her breasts dangling freely without a corset to hold them up, she felt her nipples brush the inside of her now-loose blouse, which caused them to harden. Upon pulling from the kiss, Edward looked down and saw the perky peaks bleed through and took credit for that in his own mind. He grins and goes, "I knew you'd show some excitement, Rebecca."

Edward reached out, fingers on the sides of her breasts, thumbs gently brushing over her sensitive peaks, finding out hard they are, "A little _too_ excited."

"I'm sorry, master", she quickly said, breathing a little heavier because of just how excited the kiss and her nipples in her blouse made her.

"Don't even _think_ about apologizing for becoming so aroused within my presence. I'm just glad you're finally becoming comfortable. Sort of. I'm willing to bet there's a particular _itch_ you're hoping I'm going to scratch soon. And I will, but you'll have to earn your climax."

Orgasm being the prize isn't something new within BDSM. He just wants to see what he can get her to do. And he had just the thing. But first, he wants to get her desperate for trying. So stimulation had to come first, which he had no personal objections to.

He unbuttoned her blouse and revealed her breasts, which he never got tired of seeing on any woman. Though it has been a while, so his chub was coming back. He fondled and squeezed them, all while he studied her face as well, seeing how her eyes of fear became eyes of hunger.

She couldn't believe how good he was at this, and wondered how much experience he's even had with women. Of course, the fact that he enjoys puzzles and riddles signifies he _must_ have read a few books or so regarding human sexuality. A Dim client that knows what he's doing to pleasure a woman was hard to come by (no pun intended), and the fact that this criminal who has fought Batman has this type of skill on how to sexually handle a bound woman? It blew her mind, and she wished she could handle the taste and feeling of a cock in her mouth so she could blow him in return. Nonetheless, such a concept made her very hot for him right now.

Before she knew it, he was kissing her breasts, being gentle, not rough. The exact opposite of what she expected from a criminal. A rush of blood to her genitalia, she could feel her cunt began to hunger for him despite the pain that would ensue from penetration. She knows not to obey such temptation, for it never ended well with her unless she was using a dilator set for therapy.

He started to suck on her nipples, making them very hard. She started to whimper, and he loved how she squirmed.

There was the other thing he likes. First it was being in control, now it was her squirming. He realized the pattern here. He could essentially turn what he usually does in Gotham into a type of kink to get his kicks, maybe even get off this way. Oh yes, he can _definitely_ see himself getting off this way.

Such evaluation in his thoughts were quickly interrupted by her yelping out, "Stop!"

And he did. Edward pulled away and looked to her, "Did I hurt you?" How sensitive was this woman? Has it really been _that long_ since he's been intimate with anybody? Aside from the rope, nothing involving what he's doing is out of the ordinary for him.

"Not directly", she said cringing, "Vaginismus."

"You're aroused to the point where it hurts?"

"Yes. Very."

Much to her surprise, he reached down up her short skirt and between her legs. Edwards upper hands and fingers curling up to the tops of her thighs, his thumbs gently fondling her wet snatch through her panties. He felt around, feeling what was labia and what was not, finding the sides of her vulva where the tense muscles were, "Around this area?"

"Yes. And inside, but.." Her voice trailed off when he began to massage with his thumbs. She was absolutely _shocked_ that he knew exactly what he was doing. She only wished her other clients knew how to do this when needed, but they would probably complain about paying to pleasure her rather than for their pleasure as dominants.

The external massage was all that she needed, and the painful aching and chafing subsided.

"How's that?", he asked her, studying her facial expressions of ecstasy mixed with surprise, and _loving_ how he's the cause of it.

"M.. much better." Eddie felt how moist her panties were by this point.

"Maybe I should skip right to direct contact", he said with a smile.

Though slight teasing at first instead of jumping to straight, direct stimulation was probably the best approach. The Riddler's right hand came off her thigh and cupped her sex, giving her a gentle squeeze and began to rub in a circular motion, some squeezes here and there.

Rebecca was pulled into a kiss by the chin with his free hand. Soon his hand went down into her underwear and he began to rub her sopping wet mound.

" _Someone's_ gully is flooded", he said with a smirk as if he had found out a dirty secret. He loved how wet he got this woman despite her knowing who he is and what he's done. "Are you ready to earn your right to come by my hand?"

"Y.. y-yes, master."

He immediately pulls his hand out of her underwear, "Good. Now, let's get these things off so they're not in the way." He took her skirt and underwear off, getting a nice look at his work so far, "Oh good. No labiaplasty. That means you haven't given into society's pressure thanks to pornorgraphy. _That_ would be cheating. No, I'd prefer the real thing. And yours is lovely, Rebecca."

For the first time since this whole session started, she felt herself blushing. A compliment from a criminal. She thought he liked receiving attention, except that he's giving it all to her.

"All I want you to do for a while is keep your legs open for me while sitting up straight. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, master."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** _I figured I'd cut the chapter in the middle of a sexual scene for a cliff-hanger. I was also trying to keep my chapters a similar length. If you're wondering what happens next, it occurs in the chapter below. So don't fret! You'll get to see how the Riddler deals with a submissive in a dungeon!_

 **Chapter Three: "Power"**

He reaches over to the ottoman, and he watches her as he does this, and she's looking at him, not looking at what he's reaching for. This meant that she was obeying his command from the beginning. "No peeking." And she was doing so well. He loved it.

Edward's hand grabs the riding crop with the rubbery-feeling tip rather than the leather one that was in the toy chest. He needed the flat, rubbery tip for one specific purpose: to tease.

He held it in front of her, gently brandishing it at her, "Keep those legs apart", he repeats his command in case she forgot in her sexual hunger. He saw her nod and he stood up.

Eddie held the crop with the tip at level with her crotch, and he began to lightly tap at her clit with it. This caused her legs to widen in reaction. So he increases how much force he would tap her cunt with. It went from a love-tap to smacks, and this caused her legs to twitch inward.

It didn't hurt Rebecca, of course, but it the reaction was to shield herself with her legs to further prevent contact with a sensitive area. It was like a tickle mixed with pleasure. But she kept those legs open.

Oh, he loved this: watching her squirm as she began to ooze more out of her clam as he tapped her pearl. She looked even more desperate as he increased his speed at how fast he would be tapping on that button.

She closed her eyes tightly from how intense it was already getting for her, mainly because she can't shake the fact that a dangerous criminal is doing this to her.

"Ah, ah!", he tutted, "Eyes on me, Rebecca."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Him saying her name was a mixture of fear and pleasure. She began to pant, already halfway to the peak of these sensations. Clients weren't normally this good. Only half of the co-workers that felt like having fun were this good. She's usually difficult to pleasure thanks to her insecurities involving her vaginismus and disgust for fellatio.

Her cush was soaked, and everything he realized he was into coming to fruition before his eyes gave him a nice hard-on. Rebecca's eyes trailed down to his crotch to see that the pants didn't conceal boners very well. This caused her to get pretty close to coming.

Suddenly, he stopped. She looked up at him like a disappointed child, and all he did was laugh, "You didn't think I was going to make it _that_ easy for you, did I? Oh, don't pout. I won't make it _impossible_ for you to climax. I've tested your physical endurance to commands. Now I must test your _mental_ endurance."

He pulled her to her feet, carefully now, considering her hands are bound behind her back still and it could throw her off-balance. He grabbed something, making sure he reached out of her line of sight from the ottoman. He brought it within her sight. It was a paddle.

"To the harness. Go on, now." He had her walk in front of him, and he surprised her with a love-tap on her ass from the paddle. She jumped from it and he said, "Keep walking, you're almost there."

Once she got to the harness, he put his hand through the loop of the paddle and began to untie her now that both of his hands were free. Then he began to string her up on the swinging harness, making sure her hands were away from her hips so she couldn't reach herself, and her legs comfortably brought up, which would cause her pelvis to tilt upwards so that her quim faced more upward and easier to see, and made her rear cheeks more accessible from the front.

"Under the pressure of sexual pleasure", he began, "I would like for you to answer my riddles."

Her stomach dropped. Now she feared being killed again.

"If you answer correctly", he gave her a nice tap of the paddle on her cunt, which made her flinch with shock and pleasure, "You get a treat. But if you answer incorrectly", he gave a smack to her ass, which was pleasurable, but in a more teasing manner, "You get torture. All with a paddle. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master", she said, huffing some.

"Good." He lightly had the paddle patting his free hand as if to be more intimidating, but not in a violent manner, "And if you answer enough correctly to my satisfaction, I'll bring you to orgasm with an unused form of stimulation I think you'll greatly enjoy. So keep your mind clear _while_ you enjoy yourself. I'm sure you'll appreciate this particular challenge."

Rebecca feared his riddles would involve things like chemistry and physics which she knows she can't pull from the top of her head when she aches for orgasmic release. She was almost ready to give up.

"What can bring back the dead, make us cry, make us young, born in an instant, yet lasts a lifetime?"

The helplessness of a submissive and obedient person aroused for him, wanting his touch, wanting him in some way, all while being forced to answer his riddles made him rock-hard. He wondered why he never tried doing this in the first place.

She thought for a moment because she'd heard this one before. She then she quickly answered, "Memory!"

He smiles and gives her a few taps on her vulva with some focus on her clitoris. She moaned, her vulva flexing as a natural reflex almost as if it were a mini-orgasm despite no climax at this point. He loved seeing such a desperate reward only to have her begging for more without having to breathe a word.

"Correct", he said proudly. Then quickly went to the next riddle, "I lack much reason but often rhyme, and require logic to pass the time. To get the words to tell your kin, look for clues that lie within. Though all are different, they act the same. The answer is practically in the name."

This one she had not heard of and was desperate. She was too horny to concentrate, "Music!"

No frown, but he shook his head and gave her a good whack on the glute with the paddle. She yelped, her vagina oozed more.

"A song!", she kept thinking it had to do something with that. No warning. Another whack. Her juices began to run down her vulva and ass-crack. She groaned in frustration.

" _Focus_ ", he told her, "Repeat that in your mind. No hints."

She tried again, "A puzzle!" He presses the paddle against her, " _Close_ ", then he whacks her other ass cheek.

Another yelp, "A riddle!"

Multiple taps on her clit got her to moan more, she couldn't quite make out what it was he said as a congratulation on that answer. She quickly focused again on his voice to hear the next riddle.

"What has eighty-eight keys but can't open a single door?"

"Janitor."

"J'wha?", he was stunned at that answer and gave her another whack. He saw a slight grin on her face and smirked, "Oh. You're a _glutton_ for punishment, aren't you?" He gave her another whack. And another. And another. She's getting so wet she's dripping on the floor. By that time, her cheeks were a nice pink color. But she hadn't said anything beyond the word janitor. Instead, he was turning her into a desperate, quivering mess without an orgasm.

"Now", he says holding the paddle, "Give me the _correct_ answer."

"A piano", it was almost a whisper she was panting so hard. He gave her a tap on the cunt, one light one while saying nothing, noticing how close she was to orgasm. Too soon for his taste.

"If you have it, you want to share it. If you share it, you don't have it. What is it?"

"S.. secret."

He didn't tap her this time. He instead undid his pants, keeping his belt on so his pants stayed up, and he brought his junk out through his fly, balls and all. He gave her an opportunity to show her what he work was doing for him. His cock was practically drooling pre-come.

For a moment, she thought he lied, that he was going to fuck her despite her vaginismus. That this was all one big setup. Until he spoke, "This isn't for you." He grabbed a bucket that was to the side and put it under her.

She was a bit relaxed, but she didn't know if she would come or not after he would take care of himself. except he wasn't. It was awfully uncomfortable in those pants that suddenly became so tight.

Edward stepped up to her, leaning forward, gripping her butt after dropping the paddle to the floor and began to raise her pelvis up more. His mouth enveloped around the upper portion of her vulva and sucked gently as he pulled his mouth away once.

Music to his ears as her breathing was a gasp of excitement. She didn't expect cunnilingus from this man. His mouth went back down to meet with her snatch as he brought out his tongue. He licked from the bottom of her vaginal opening to the top of her clitoral shaft. There was a slight smirk as he felt her body twitching from these sensations.

There was a slight intent to scare her when he brought out his manhood to keep her from orgasming too soon. He wants to see if he can get her to squirt like he's gotten so many other women before him to back in college. That, however, was achieved by fingering. A woman with vaginismus can't come from fingering, at least not this particular woman. And he loved puzzles. So she would be a fun puzzle for him to solve.

And he _will_ solve it.

The tongue came back out again, flicking at her swollen bud before sucking lightly on it at the same time. He could hear her moaning desperately, struggling. His hands continued to hold her in place, he knew she was trying to keep her legs under control from thrashing so much.

Edward's mouth slide off her vital button and went on to kissing around her vulva, making sure the kisses sucked on her skin to give her flesh a slight tug, further teasing her and causing her legs and abdominal muscles to twitch.

Squirming, writhing, the desperate yelps and whimpers, all in the name of praising his touch. It was almost painful for him to be this rock-hard. But he was willing to risk such pain if it meant seeing what made her squirt.

He could tell he got her very close to it once more when he went back to sucking on her clit. Turns out he thinks he's done enough, and stood up. She looked at him with these desperate eyes, far more intense with desperation than before. He walked to her side and simply held his hand against her with no rubbing before asking her, "How are we doing up here, Rebecca?" He was checking in on her, making sure she was okay so far.

All he got was a nod from her. She couldn't speak at this point, she was so drunk with arousal.

Then he decided to continue for the grand finale with a final riddle, "A most delicious thing", he says, his mouth visibly having her juices glistening in the room's light, like he'd donned balm on his lips, "It can be given but cannot be kept", and she realized this was another riddle, "Some awake from it after they've slept", and she believes she's heard this one before, "It is the moistest and softest butterfly wing, but when it is the last, it can sting."

Rebecca realized that this was also a message in the form of a riddle. And she had no objections to this one, "A kiss."

He didn't have to tell her she was correct, he simply kissed her. She could taste herself on his mouth, not caring.

The sly Prince of Puzzles surprised her with his hand suddenly stimulating her. At first, it was her full vulva and she breathed and panted within the long kiss. The rotation of his hand quickened, and began to slowly shrink as it soon became concentrated on her clitoris, causing her to yelp and whimper in the kiss.

Eddie pulls away, wanting to see her explode. Rebecca's muffled cries of pleasure soon filled the room. She quickly got quiet and movement died down just before her climax.

Yes. Here it is. All of his work, his hard, lovely work building up to the moment of whether or not he can get a woman to squirt with no penetration.

The quiet was short-lived as she cried, almost screaming in ecstasy as her vulva pulsated. The Riddler had already leaned over to look at the magnificent event take place, watching her opening quiver and pump out liquid.

Except it wasn't squirting, it was _gushing_. This woman was a gusher! Something he'd never gotten a woman to do before.

While he knows it's debatable that the watery substance from a woman squirting may or may not involve urine, this was certain not coming out of anything around or in her urethra. This was coming from the vaginal opening itself. This was the real female ejaculation, and he was able to witness it firsthand in person for the very first time. (He dismissed any videos he saw on the internet for the possibility of even amateur home videos for the internet to be fake after hearing that some men will fake how much they come or how big their sacks were by injecting saline into themselves.)

Nigma licked his lips to taste her once more again, or what was left of her on his mouth, as he watched the thick, liquidy, almost white substance pour from her convulsing slit like someone pouring honey onto the floor.

Some clear, liquid substance of his own dropped from his knob onto the floor in anticipation of stimulation of his own, but he was enjoying the peak from her crescendo far too much to bother with himself for right now. He wanted to see how long he could keep her going.

It was a good five, maybe even ten minutes of stimulation, but halfway into that was when the gushing stopped. This resulted in a nice, thick puddle on the floor in front of the reserved bucket.

By this point, the focus on the clit grew back to circular motions over the entire vulva, using her joy-juices like a massage oil as he helped her come down from her sexual high. The motions became slower before he finally stopped altogether.

Now it was his turn before his cock exploded. Well, he knew it wouldn't _literally_ explode, but it certainly felt like it. That's when he picked up the bucket, and stood where she could see him, and she watched him in wonder-this man who made her come her brains out.

She's not aroused anymore, she's satisfied, but watching this brilliant man, this _genius_ , take care of himself was going to be interesting and she knew it had to be hot. It would be a very nice memory for her go-to mental spank-bank in the future.

He held the bucket, tilting it towards him because it's not like he can angle himself downward without blocking off the flow of semen. The Riddler would have to essentially shoot up into the bucket. So he went to town on himself, glad he wasn't so hard there wasn't enough foreskin to do much with. His sack jiggled and bounced, and Rebecca took in every moment of the sight while she could, because this wasn't going to take him long.

When he _did_ come, he gave a nice, throaty growl as he shot what appeared to be a damn geyser for a dick right into the bucket. This wasn't any pathetic spurts you'd see on personal porn sites where viewers can upload their own dirty flicks. This was a nice, thick stream that wasn't short-lived, making the sound anyone squirting water from a bottle into a metal bucket would hear. Three good, long, thick streams that caused his urethra to open as wide as it could to get it all out almost in desperation. Oh, she loved seeing that. As much as she hates having semen on her, watching a man cum was an enjoyable act for her, especially when he had a lot to shoot out. Had he video-taped this and labeled it as "shooting a huge load" on the internet, this would be one of the few amateur videos that actually told the damn truth.

Though logically, he hadn't diddled himself in forever, either, which he regrets not doing it at least once a week. Arkham doesn't exactly give you the best privacy for such a task, though, and he wasn't about to subject himself to possible torment from other inmates, especially rivals like the Joker, for daring to be human and wanking for the sake of keeping his prostate healthy. Unlike other men, he wasn't obsessed with masturbation, but he enjoyed the benefits that came from it.

After the four long streams of cum came three more little spurts as his testicles emptied out into the bucket, which he was slowly able to lower a bit since these last few spurts weren't going to damn near shoot across the room. He squeezed from the base to the tip to make sure he got it all out, panting slightly as he did so. Then he sat the bucket down and tucked himself back into his trousers, zipping his fly back up.

He didn't have to watch her looking at him when he took care of himself. Feeling wanted eyes on him while doing that made it more enjoyable for him. It's too bad he would be subjected to the same torment mentioned earlier if he posted a video of him doing that to himself on the internet.

Edward walked over to her after taking in a breath, "Let's get you down, shall we?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** _Hope everyone had fun reading the last chapter. As I type this, I really didn't know how much I'm going to write for the aftercare scene and epilogue, so I've made a fourth chapter for that. Hope everybody has enjoyed Riddler in a BDSM situation!_

 **Chapter Four: "Aftercare"**

Eddie helped her off the suspended harness and onto her feet, noticing she was shaking and could hardly stand from how taxing that orgasm was on her. Instead, he managed to carry Rebecca over to the bed and laid her down on it, knowing she'd need a break from being suspended by a couple of support pads and some rope.

Eddie had no need of laying down, so he merely sat next to her, rubbing her hips thinking that the rope had to have been digging at her through the support pads. He sighs a bit in satisfaction and leans over to check her pulse, make sure she's doing okay since she's unresponsive, at least verbally.

Rebecca was just in shock and so damn _satisfied_ that a major criminal of Gotham took such good care of her like that. Clients can be kicked out if they harm workers willingly in any way, and she knew that, but so far, only two men have and those were the type that did not respect her "no" because of her condition. This criminal that gave Batman some trouble caused her to come until she couldn't move anymore.

Sexual kinks, fetishes, thing surrounding cocks, none of that mattered to him on a sexual validation level. The attention she gave him was more than enough, along with admiring his work on making a woman squirm, quiver, and erupt. In that order.

And his pants were fitting him much better, now.

Rebecca's arms shakily reached up as best as she could towards him. To which he was curious, thinking she may want a kiss. His hands went to her sides and he leaned forward, but she finally managed to speak. "Lay with me", she whispered.

Edward knew that aftercare was a subjective thing. Some wanted to be cuddled after an intense session, other would rather wrap up in a blanket and settle down for a movie, anything to bring the mind back to Earth and pull them out of the mental state of devious play.

So he lays next to her, wrapping one arm around her, thinking cuddling was the answer, and it was. The sub curled up against him, his other arm embraced her.

After taking breaths to calm herself down to where she could speak to him, she managed to speak above a whisper, "Thank you for that."

"I'm well aware of how to make just about any woman happy."

"No, I mean.. Respecting boundaries."

"Oh, that? Well, how hard can that be? Is it so difficult for people to find alternatives to work with someone's boundaries."

"Apparently it is for some", she remembered something after licking her lips, "And I thought you said you wanted a clean kiss."

"That was a clean kiss."

"You ate me out beforehand."

"A healthy vagina is always a little cleaner than the mouth of the owner. _That_ counted as a clean kiss. And by the way, you tasted wonderful. I was afraid you would hose my face down."

"Oh I tried. You wouldn't let me."

He grins, "I see I haven't lost my touch." His hand gently stroked down her side, to her hip and then back up, "I liked it when you watched me toward the very end there."

"I can tell you like attention."

He cleared his throat slightly, not wanting to admit that.

She realized he gave no answer to that, "There's nothing wrong with that, you know. That's what we're here for."

"Would it be too much to ask if I frequented here?"

"No", she looked up at him, "They'll be afraid at first until I tell them how damn good you are. Why not work here for us?"

He sighs, "I'm afraid I can't. As much as I enjoyed every bit of that, it's not where my passion lies. Besides, being associated with an establishment like this would ruin my reputation. Not that this place is bad, but society's priorities aren't exactly ideal when it comes to standards. Sex being considered bad except under certain circumstances while violence is okay to show kids." He shook his head, "I'll never understand these primitive desires."

"I've seen you violent, though."

"Oh, I don't deny being violent, I'm just not as violent as everyone else. It's not even my go-to solution. I'd prefer to work with the mind. The whole reason Gotham is the way it is isn't because of money. Anyone can manipulate the system for money. You're looking at a man who can do just that. Child's play. No, it's lack of intelligence. Nobody cares about progressing intellectually as a society. We're stuck in a medieval era when it comes to the mind. Violence is easy. It requires minimal mental effort."

"So, laziness?"

"Precisely. They'd rather have things spoonfed to them than actually make the effort to think for themselves. It's frustrating at times being the smartest person in Gotham."

She could tell he was so full of himself, but she didn't want to prod at it. It could cost her her life.

"So what's a darling, obedient woman like you doing in a place like this, if you don't mind me asking? No judgment, just curious."

"College. I need money to pay for it and can't get accepted for financial aid anymore. I'm studying to become a chemist."

"Oh? Any particular job you wish to have as a chemist?"

"I don't know yet, but I just find chemistry so interesting. And this place and its clients pay so damn well to put me through school."

 _Oh yes_ , he thought, _I am definitely going to like coming back here. Emphasis on "coming."_

Upon leaving the room, Rebecca was quickly met by a crowd of co-workers both dominant and submissive. They asked questions like how did she live through that, how much he'd hurt her, and did she need to see a counselor or go to the emergency room.

But much to their astonishment, she grins and goes, "He is _so damn good_ you have no idea! We gotta put him on our frequent guest list. We kind of have to anyways because he wants to come back."

To hear this from a co-worker they know who has a medical condition, this said something considering his reputation. The Foxglove was an elaborate establishment that had lots of clients who have had high reputations outside those doors that wish to keep their visits secret. To allow word go around on the streets and around clients that the Riddler frequents this particular club would devastate their financial flow and damage business. The entirety of the staff have all agreed to keep the Riddler as their biggest secret.

Eddie walked out and down the hall, the sex workers looked at him in shock, the vibe of fear dying down in the room as it was replaced by a drive of curiosity. A handful of submissive immediately lined up as to who would take him his next visit because they had to experience this themselves. His hard-stolen/hard-hacked money went to good causes; someone's college tuition being the majority of them as many of them were of college-age.

One thing that Edward admitted to himself and no one else, not even the workers that joined him during his visits, was that this place allowed him to maintain was little grip on sanity he still has left. Such a business like this was the perfect outlet for him that allowed him to keep himself in check when facing the dark knight. His first visit once brought fear, and now his visits afterwards brought smiles that happily greeted him. This helped him keep a very good grip on that last bit of sanity left indeed.


End file.
